


The Yoga Incident

by Moiself



Series: The Adventures of Brat & Sparkles [5]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Brat and Sparkles, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday gift originally posted on tumblr for my dearest jellybelly30, this is the infamous incident alluded to in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3817798">Fashion Advice</a> :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Yoga Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoadedRevolver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoadedRevolver/gifts).



Dean was bored. **  
**

Really, really bored.

Phenomenally bored.

He was the Bored One, the Shaman of Snooze, the New Ennui Icon, the Duchess of Drearyville…ok, so that last one didn’t really work. His legs weren’t a patch on Stacy’s, though Chris seemed to like them well enough. Especially when they were wrapped round his waist, which is where they should be now damn it! Instead he was stuck in the family room flicking through the TV channels waiting impatiently for Sparkles to hurry the fuck up and finish recording his opinion piece for his podcast.

It felt like far too long since they’d spent time alone together thanks to all the hustle of Wrestlemania and now with the European tour looming on the horizon they’d be apart again. Not fair. Not fair at all. They were newlyweds, kind of. He should be spending every spare moment wrapped round his husband naked. Not sitting on the sofa letting his mind drift to all the all the things he  _could_  be doing right now.

Enough was enough. He was Dean Fucking Ambrose, not some shy little flower. If he wanted some attention from his man then by god, he was going to get it. Flinging himself to his feet, he switched off the tv and dropped the remote control behind him. After the quickest of detours to their bedroom, he found himself back downstairs in front of the door to Chris’s home office.

Opening the door, he strode in, only to immediately find himself being waved to the spare chair in the corner, Chris indicating that he’d be five more minutes and giving Dean the universal shush gesture the second he opened his mouth to speak.

Throwing himself onto the seat with all the grace of a huffy teenager, Dean’s gaze fell upon a chart pinned to the board on the wall. DDP’s Diamond Dozen. It gave him an idea.

Stripping off his shirt as he stood, he moved closer and studied the poster closely. He couldn’t help but notice that he’d caught Sparkles’s attention as his shirt came off, though he gave no indication that he’d acknowledged it.

Making use of the empty space to the side of the desk, he started moving through the poses detailed on the poster adding just a sprinkle of Seth’s Cyberfights style to the transitions between the various movements. Facing away from Chris, he only allowed himself a sneaky little peek at him when the pose took his line of sight in that direction. As he neared completion of the first pass at the routine, Dean began to hear a subtle shuffling sound behind him, a quick glance over his shoulder confirming his suspicion that his plan was working. Chris was starting to look a little distracted and Dean could definitely see the beginnings of something in his husband’s shorts.

Time to kick things up a gear then.

The next time Chris looked away, Dean took advantage of the moment to quickly rid himself of his shorts and underwear, then without fuss, began a second cycle of the yoga poses.

He knew his plan to entice Sparkles away from his recording had worked when the room suddenly went quiet, Chris’s voice dying mid-word as he noticed his now nude man on the floor in broken airplane pose.

“What are you doing?

“Yoga. Thought that was obvious.”

“I can see you’re doing yoga baby, but why? And why naked?”

Dean lowered his extended arm and leg, and resting on all fours looked over his shoulder smirking.

“Well, you’re always singing it’s praises, saying how  _flexible_  it makes you, how much  _stamina_  it gives you…”

“Doesn’t explain why your bare ass is in my face.”

“I felt hot. Don’t you feel hot babe? You’re looking a mite warm. Will I go get you a glass of water?”

With that he insinuated himself to his feet, the wantonness of the motion making those Cyberfights matches of Seth’s look positively prudish. As he passed by, Chris reached out and grabbed him by the hips, pulling him back to sit on his lap. Dean squirmed delightedly in his new seat, feeling the hardness of his husband’s cock beneath him. Rocking his hips, he twisted himself round to claim a kiss, one of Chris’s hands making it’s way now to Dean’s dick and stroking him to hardness.

Eventually Chris broke the kiss.

“You really are a Brat,” he laughed. “So impatient. Can’t even wait five minutes for my cock.”

“Been waiting ages. Need you Sparkles. Need you to fuck me so hard I can still feel it when I’m in Europe.”

“You’ll have to wait until we get upstairs, I’m not fucking you dry.”

Dean grinned at him.

“You’re right babe, I’m impatient, but I’m also prepared.”

He hopped off Chris’s knee and crouched down, fishing in the pocket of his shorts for the bottle of lube he’d grabbed from their bedroom earlier. Tossing it to Chris, he stood, bracing his forearms on the desk.

Chris popped the cap without delay, Dean feeling his slicked up fingers at his hole moments later as Sparkles quickly worked him open with practiced ease.

“I’m good…I’m ready. Want your cock Chris.”

“Your wish is my command Brat.”

Chris withdrew his fingers. Too eager to be inside Dean to strip, he pulled his cock free of his shorts and lined himself up with his Brat’s entrance, pushing through the puckered ring of muscle with only the briefest of warning, teasing taps. Pressing on until Dean had taken his full length he immediately pulled back until he was almost wholly out, before snapping his hips fiercely, thrusting in once more.

The pace at which Chris was fucking into Dean’s perfect ass was relentless, every stroke hitting his prostate, every movement shaking the desk, making Dean slide further along it.

Chris was exceedingly familiar with the little telltale signs Dean’s body sent out when he was close to climax. He’d wrung them out of him on countless occasions, they’d become like dear old friends, and there his friends were now. The slight hitch in his breath, the twitch of his stomach muscles, the subtle change in pitch of his moans.

“You close Brat? You need my hand?”

“Muhuh.”

Reaching round, he took Dean’s hard length in his hand, swiftly working him to orgasm, his cum ending up all over the desk. Letting loose at the same time, Chris came, filling Dean with his own release, riding it out with a few final shuddering thrusts.

Slipping free, he tugged off his own t shirt and used it to clean them both up a little, then sitting back in his chair pulled Dean back into his lap. His husband kissed him once, then rested his head on his shoulder with a more than satisfied sigh.

“That what you wanted baby?”

Dean’s reply was more a purr than actual words, but it was definitely affirmative. They sat like that, curled up around each other and silent for a few more minutes until…

“Sparkles?”

“Yes baby?”

“Next time you see DDP, please buy that man a beer from me.”


End file.
